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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29752584">smiling makes me sick</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsumbok/pseuds/tsumbok'>tsumbok</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Self-Projection [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cute, Fluff, Late at Night, Living Together, M/M, Rarepair, Wholesome, i wrote this in two hours</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:48:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,155</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29752584</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsumbok/pseuds/tsumbok</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>sugasaku</p><p>that's it</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sakusa Kiyoomi/Sugawara Koushi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Self-Projection [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2258666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>smiling makes me sick</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i wrote this in two hours and i wasn't trying to be hasty with writing stories, but this is more of my expression of my own sensations. i want to say one thing, i hope this work is another piece of my heart that i am sharing with you to enjoy. your attention means everything to me and i sincerely hope you have a good night/day.</p><p>TW: intrusive thoughts (implied) and physical insecurities</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sugawara Koushi just wanted to rip his face off.</p><p>Shred it into tiny pieces until it becomes unrecognizable by anyone who could have enough pity to look at the torn pile of skin. He wants to dig his own fingers into the skin encasing his teeth and to tear it from his face. It feels so wrong. It feels so uneven. His cheeks are starting to cramp. Why does it feel so weird? Has it always felt this weird? Why does it feel so crooked, as if it never belonged on his face? It doesn’t feel itchy or anything but it’s just wrong.</p><p>His own contorted face stared at him with eyebrows tangled in the small space between them. He bent over the sink and the figure in front of him mimics. His head rotated to the right for him to check if anything new for him to worry about has appeared. No new red dots nor noticeable signs of whiteheads. Fingers raise to his left cheek, a habit that is basically a part of his hourly routine of touching his face, to feel the already existing blackheads who never go away no matter what products he tries. His fingertips graze his skin until nails replace the touch to pick at a spot that is redeemable to pick at. There are no specific standards as to what is pickable and what is not, he just knows.</p><p>Moisturized fingertips return but this time, they travel across his chin to his right cheek. And repeat. Visibly, nothing noticeable seems to have surprised him tonight. Although that doesn’t excuse the preexisting blackheads he had compared to his left side. His hand falls from his face for it to only catch itself with the cold edge of the sink.</p><p>Looking right at his clone, he smiles, maybe to (hopefully) be distracting enough for people to not notice his blemished skin. His clone copies.<br/>
</p><p>It feels fine. It feels like every other time he has smiled. It looks the same. Maybe his smile was one of the decent features adorning his face. But maybe, he also shouldn’t have been smiling for so long. So long to the point, it feels unnatural.</p><p>It feels weird. It looks weird. Why did it look like that? Why was one side more open than the other? Does it always look like that? The smile no longer feels normal. It’s not scary nor chilling nor was it creepy. It just doesn’t feel right.</p><p>As an attempt to fix the offensive showcase of teeth, he adjusts the muscles he could feel in his cheeks, or at least he tries to. He can’t control the muscle in his top lip, how one side of his top lip is shaped differently than the other. The tiny crevice stretching from his mouth to his cheeks is crooked. The right feels heavier on his face. He wants to straighten the uneven impression of his smile. The right is lower than his left. Now his cheeks are asymmetrical. Now it feels gross.</p><p>His smile plummets to the tiled bathroom floor. It’s gone. His face isn’t smiling back at him anymore. But it still feels like the muscles are still being pulled by his mouth. His cheeks still feel pushed back by his own lips. Ew ew ew ew ew ew. Get it off. It’s so wrong. His face is stuck. His mouth and cheeks are paralyzed.</p><p>His hands return from their cold home on the bathroom counter to forcefully rip this feeling from his face. His hands tug at the places he feels are so disgusting he wants to cry. So disgusting that he just wants to cut it off with the cosmetic scissors in his personal compartment and to sew it up afterward with the butter cookie sewing kit in the closet. His hands pull and yank and tug until his face doesn’t feel so repulsive. Thankfully, there won’t be any need for a needle and thread because the feeling goes away and hopefully, it never comes back.</p><p>Instead of disgust, his reflection only mirrors disappointment. Disappointed in the smile he has only recently become used to looking at. Disappointed in the smile he has worked so hard to build the confidence to show after some random kid in junior high said he needed braces. His smile wasn’t the only thing that felt revolting. His eyelids appear to be irregular. His nose is too small-</p><p>“Are you preparing for a date or something? Or are you just checking yourself out like a weirdo?” They questioned. Not that they sounded serious or frustrated, it sounded like they were worried.</p><p>And perhaps the reason why it’s so relieving is probably that it’s so smooth, so familiar, so warm.</p><p>Suga’s head whips around to where the voice came from; the entrance of the bathroom. A not-so-formal greeting but oh was it comforting.</p><p>“I can be if you wanna go out tonight.” He replied. He was kidding though he wouldn’t mind a date night (despite the hour being a bit past one).</p><p>“Aren’t you the one who always tells me to sleep early? It’s one am. One forty-one.”</p><p>Sakusa wasn’t wrong, for as late as Suga would be able to stay up before he drowns in their bedsheets, Sakusa was always awake doing something. He could just tell Sakusa that he was practicing his smile but instead wanted to tear it off his face and maybe he wouldn’t give him a dirty look. Except, he could not possibly bother him with these minor inconveniences.</p><p>“I just had to go to the bathroom!” Suga raised his arms almost as if he was pledged guilty of a crime he most likely did not commit but was just too suspicious not to.</p><p>If his face didn’t previously feel disgusting already, Sakusa’s face was basically submerged under a tsunami of an expression hollering Suga’s name in repulsion, except it was a label; “Liar” A lying liar with their pants on fire.</p><p>The accusation was put to a halt, Sakusa’s back was now facing Suga. Though he couldn’t see his face, his jaw opened to signify that he was about to say something.</p><p>And he was right.</p><p>“Do you want to watch Five Feet Apart?” He asked.</p><p>It wasn’t a normal question, Sakusa didn’t even like Five Feet Apart!</p><p>With no time to waste, Suga repeats his thoughts exactly, which was only ignored.</p><p>Sakusa disappears from the door, his back is an invitation for Suga to follow it.</p><p>Suga trails after Sakusa thus ending up in the destination of their dark bedroom, light poured in from the door and the laptop screen positioned on the sea of bedsheets.</p><p>“So is it a yes or no?” Sakusa shot the question. Sakusa already knew the answer and so did Suga. It was rhetorical. More of a reassurance.</p><p>No response was necessary so Suga smiles, this time it doesn’t feel so gross.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading! lately, i have been smiling more but whenever i do, i feel the need to just want to rip it off so i thought suga would be a good fit for this feeling of mine. (is this offensive bc i don't know if it is or isn't? :,)</p><p>if you saw any grammatical errors or whatnot, tell me! because i reread my works but i usually never notice my own mistakes.</p><p>you can follow me on tumblr :D https://tsumbo.tumblr.com/</p></blockquote></div></div>
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